


Another day at the Musain

by Ironfrost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 05:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironfrost/pseuds/Ironfrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly has always been amazed by his friends. And how little it takes to start an argument. And how Enjolras's face always gets the same shade of red whenever Marius brings up the forbidden word: "Napoleon".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another day at the Musain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tritonvert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tritonvert/gifts).



> This was quite interesting to write, as I have never written about this pairing before. There is always a first for everything. I hope you like it.
> 
> Merry Christmas! xx

It was another quite normal day at the Musain. Meaning another day of lengthy discussions about the status quo mixed with (mostly) good-hearted bickering. Joly watched all his friends fondly, for once not offering comments about whatever was being said. 

“Joly,” Courfeyrac boomed suddenly. “Where is your eagle?”

“On his way,” Joly answered. “He's picking up Chetta from work.”

At the other side of the room Enjolras was in yet another argument with Marius. Today they had reverted back to their favourite topic to disagree about: Napoleon.

“You have to admit he was an honourable man,” Marius said.

“Honoura-” Enjolras looked as if he were about to have a stroke. “Marius, you cannot be serious! Napoleon was anything but an honourable man. A coward and a cruel man, that is what he was!”

Enjolras's rage seemed to rise, and Marius carefully placed himself behind Cosette, in case he should turn violent. That would not have been the first time. But Enjolras merely sighed.

“One day, Marius,” he said wearily. “One day you will see how wrong you are. I just hope that day arrives soon.”

Marius was about to offer a counter-comment on how things like 'right' and 'wrong' are subjective matters, but was interrupted by Grantaire, who, as usual, was sitting in the back, more occupied with a bottle of wine than any conversations going on.

“Oh MY god, who cares? You are both arguing about a man who died hundreds of years ago.”

That effectively made Enjolras and his rage forget everything about Marius, and he turned his attention to Grantaire. Marius could have kissed Grantaire out of sheer gratitude, but resorted to letting Cosette coax him into a discussion she was having with Prouvaire about poetry. 

“Are you trying to delude yourself into thinking that history does not matter?” Enjolras sneered. 

“Nothing matters,” Grantaire said simply. 

Sometimes Enjolras wanted to smack Grantaire in the head with that wine bottle of his. 

 

That was the moment when Bossuet and Musichetta elected to arrive, and were momentarily taken aback by the scene in front of them. Enjolras looked like he was ready to murder Grantaire, and albeit that was not an unusual sight, it was still quite unnerving. Grantaire, as usual, looked equally pleased and frightened by the attention from their leader. Courfeyrac was seated next to Combeferre, occasionally reading aloud the texts he received from his numerous admirers which, according to Combeferre's slightly distressed expression, was apparently racy enough to even rattle the calmest of them all. Bahorel and Feuilly was drinking with much vigour, roaring nonsense to no one in particular. Marius had the look of someone who had recently been subjected to the rage of Enjolras, and not even the presence of Cosette and Prouvaire was enough to calm him down. All in all, it would seem that the safest choice for them both was to make their way towards Joly, who was still sitting quietly, taking in the wonders of their friends.

When they arrived at his table, Musichetta bent down to kiss Joly with enthusiasm. Bossuet grabbed his hand and squeezed gently, smiling at them both. 

“Good day at work?” Joly asked Musichetta.

“Oh, you know, same old,” she said. Looking to the other side of the room, she dropped her voice and asked “What did Grantaire do this time?”

“Same thing he always does,” Joly said, as Grantaire launched into a long rant on all the various points where Enjolras was wrong. “Finding Enjolras's weak points and attacking them for the sake of gaining his attention.”

Bahorel, who was listening from the next table, leaned over to them and whispered conspiratorially “The two of them just needs to shut up for a moment and just have really aggressive sex. It would be for the best.”

That made them all laugh. The subject of Enjolras and Grantaire was something often discussed in hushed tones.

“Speaking of really aggressive sex,” Bossuet said, still laughing. “Bahorel, where is your mistress?”

Bahorel's expression suddenly changed into something of great fondness. “Ah, she is not here. I don't know where she could be. Maybe she'll show up at a later point, who knows?”

“You are awfully philosophical,” Musichetta mused. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough,” Bahorel said, grabbing his drink again, chugging the remaining part.

As Bahorel and Bossuet discussed setting up a betting pool on just when Enjolras and Grantaire would eventually hook up, Musichetta went and bought a round for herself and her boys. On her way back she was distracted by a comment by Prouvaire, and ended up sitting down with them to offer her opinion. Joly only smiled. Musichetta was never one to back down from a discussion. That was probably why she fit so extraordinarily well into this group. 

When she came back, it was with a look of pity.

“Marius is rattled,” she said quietly to Joly. “What did Enjolras say to him? He wouldn't tell me.”

“They were arguing about Napoleon again,” Joly answered. Musichetta just shook her head.

“Will they never learn?”

 

Later, when Enjolras was finished with Grantaire and moved on to discuss more pressing matters with Combeferre and Courfeyrac, Grantaire went to sit down with Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, demeanour more gloomy than usual.

“Are you okay?” Musichetta asked sympathetically. Grantaire shrugged.

“Apollo hates me. Nothing new there.”

“He doesn't hate you,” Joly said. Bossuet, now back in the conversation, joined in.

“He's just confused by you.”

“I doubt that,” Grantaire said glumly. 

“Oh, but he is,” Bossuet continued. “See, we live in a day and age where Enjolras can get anyone to agree with him almost always, but you are not like the rest. You are not so easily convinced. This confuses him, and leaves him with only option. To take you serious.”

Grantaire looked incredulously at Bossuet. “Say, have you banged your head really hard today? We are talking about Enjolras here.”

“I know who we are talking about,” Bossuet said simply. “Maybe he doesn't take you serious now, but he will. One day. You just have to show him.”

That made Grantaire more attentive. “Show him what?” he asked, leaning in.

But Bossuet only smiled. And Joly could see that Bossuet was thinking about the amount of money he would win on the betting pool. He didn't even have the heart to remind Bossuet that he had never won a thing in his life, and it would probably not begin now. 

When Musichetta started yawning, it was time to bid their farewells and go home. 

“Jolllly, are you flying away so soon?” Courfeyrac chirped. Joly rolled his eyes fondly at his friend.

“Oh, my dear Courfeyrac, will that joke never get old?”

“Of course not, this is comedy gold right here,” he said, laughing at himself. 

Walking out the door, hands linked with both Musichetta and Bossuet, Joly could not help but think about how lucky he was to have all these great people in his life. That is until Enjolras's clear voice cried out through the door.

“Marius, don't think I didn't hear you mention Napoleon again! Let me explain in excruciating detail how wrong you are, come here!”

Well, great and stupid people. God help them all.


End file.
